


Mysterious Scents

by whataterrorificmess



Series: Terror: Drabble Collections / Prompt and Kinkmeme Fills [4]
Category: The Terror (TV 2018)
Genre: Attempted Rape/Non-Con, Dubious Consent, Francis is Terror's Daddy, Francis trying to be daddy but ends up beign DADDY, I love the idea of Edward Little having self-control issues when it comes to lust, I will forever support this and nothing you say nor do will change that but please lay it on me!, Jopson behaving very VERY badly, M/M, Poor Jopson is so confused, Rape/Non-con Elements, Sex Pollen, but he can't help it, he just really wanted to do his job!
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-13
Updated: 2019-11-20
Packaged: 2020-08-20 13:23:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 6
Words: 9,225
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20228560
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whataterrorificmess/pseuds/whataterrorificmess
Summary: https://terrorkinkmeme.dreamwidth.org/396.html?thread=146828#cmt146828Found this lovely little gem on the kinkmeme and I am having my fun with this.Part 1 of 2 ... or multi-chapter depending on what I choose... it won't be a long fic though.Alternate Darker version: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20307097





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [JollyRogue](https://archiveofourown.org/users/JollyRogue/gifts).

He absolutely did not feel good at all.

Ever since the noon meal earlier he was finding himself unable to focus on anything relating to his duties despite his efforts, and he was suffering random dizzy spells, nausea, and his senses were on overload, making is head feel like it was going to explode.

His body felt warm.. too warm for a cold place like this.

Maybe he should go down to sick bay...

Immediately he shook his head of the thought, no, he needed to get the laundering done. Maybe he'd go afterwards.

____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Solomon Tozer was coming in from being on deck, his teeth chattered slightly as he climbed down the ladder.

As soon as his boots touched the ground however, his nose had picked up on something... sweet... alluring...

Something about this scent... he had to follow it... he had to find it's source.

He made his way down the passage in his quest to seek out this... peculiar aroma.. and he had to admit when he found it, he was confused.

Wait when did he get on the orlop?

Had he followed the scent all the way here?

All he could see was Mr Jopson, where he was beside a wash basin working on the captain's laundering.

Solomon inhaled deeply, it was that same smell... a smell that had his mind wanting... and he could feel desire swelling deep in his belly as a pit of warmth, from that scent was radiating off the steward in blossoming waves.

His pants felt unbearably tight and his mind was screaming at him to fuck the younger man senseless.. and he found himself abruptly, having every intent to do so as he moved forward in long brisk strides.

Jopson was sweating profusely, despite the coldness of the orlop, coating his face and neck in a glistening sheet of perspiration. His face was pale and he was panting softly. He almost looked badly ill, but how could anything sick possibly smell... so good?

____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Thomas wiped the sweat off his brow quickly becoming concerned that he may have to give up the laundering and head to sick bay, he was miserable.

Large hands suddenly grabbed him from behind yanking him roughly to his feet by the back of his collar, and he cried out in alarm.

"H-Hey-aarrrgh!" his cry drawled out into a shrill scream when something... teeth?, had clamped down deep into the junction of his neck and shoulder.

He struggled furiously but another wave of vertigo had his head spinning and he fell back into those immensely strong arms and the chest of whom they belonged to.

Looking up from his slumped position he met the storm gray eyes of Royal Marine Sergeant, Solomon Tozer, but it… his eyes... was that lust?

Thomas got his answer when he felt something hard pressing into his lower back.

"No! Let me go!!" he screeched forcing his body to move through the thick fog that muddled his mind.

Solomon Tozer was obviously a royal marine sergeant for a reason.

Tozer was a strong man, and his muscled arms which held him even stronger... crushing. The marine was easily barring him against his broad chest with one arm looped across his collarbone, his other hand moved under his chin forcing his head up to land an aggressive, forceful kiss upon his lips.

Thomas squeaked in surprise before immediately trying to pull back and turn his head away, but Solomon’s hold stayed strong and all he could do was whimper against the marine's lips.

An idea came to him, and not caring about the repercussions he opened his mouth which was immediately invaded by a thick demanding tongue.

He bit down on that wriggling appendage as hard as he could and Tozer howled, his arms released him and Jopson was scrambling across the floor half on his hands and knees before staggering to his feet and breaking into a dead sprint.

The marine's heavy booted footfalls behind him struck him wild with panic and just when he was inches from the ladder he felt a heavy weight slam into him from behind as he was tackled to the floor.

"Get off me this instant!" he shrieked, squirming beneath the strong body that was practically crushing the breath from his chest in between him and the wooden planks of the ship.

Tozer wrapped a rough hand around his mouth squeezing with a bruising force as he leaned in nuzzling his neck. He could hear the man inhale deeply against his neck and he blushed furiously as his arousal poked at him insistently.

"Mmnn.." Thomas whimpered softly feeling that mouth lapping at the blood that had trickled from the wound the man had made on his shoulder.

Tozer growled low into his ear again holding his earlobe between his teeth for a moment before nipping gently.

"You... You smell... so good Mr Jopson...” he moaned breathlessly grinding his erection hard again the back of Thomas’s thigh.

What was wrong with the man? Had he gone insane!?

A hand trailed down his back to the back of his trousers and he froze in terror…

Surely the sergeant wasn’t intending on…

Unfortunately, the cold hand he now felt against his buttocks told him that his unspoken thoughts was, indeed what the man intended to do.

“Mm… beautiful thing… I'm going to fuck you into the floor planks…"

One last spur of adrenaline hit him and he threw his head back with all his might, where it cracked painfully against Tozer’s. The man released him again and Thomas didn’t think he’d ever moved faster in his life as he scurried away from him, the marine’s dazed state allowed him to make his way to the deck above.

The Captain… he needed to find the Captain!

____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Francis Rawdon Moira Crozier had seen and experienced a great many things in his lifetime, some he wished he hadn’t and some he wished he could again. With that being said, when he had to stop mid-sentence while going over some of the charts with his First Lieutenant because his nose picked up on something so powerful it made him lose is train of thought, he didn’t know if it was a good thing or a bad thing.

It was… a strong scent… one foreign to him.. but it wasn’t a bad scent either, quite the opposite in fact it was rather appealing… welcome.. a blend of flora, a hint of vanilla, and a modest degree of sandalwood.

Lifting his gaze, one look at Lieutenant Little told him that Edward had picked up the scent too, his nose was scrunched and his dark brows knit together in a confused frown.

“Get off!” came a commotion from the passage just yonder of the great cabin door.

Jopson?

Abruptly that mysterious aroma became more intense, now almost smothering with its strength and Crozier watched as Edward pressed a hand against his forehead, and Francis’s arm shot out quickly to steady him when the man wavered slightly on his feet with a small groan.

“No! Don’t!”

The noise snapped Captain Crozier into action, the familiar voice a shrill ringing of nothing but unbridled fear, something he mused that he hadn’t heard in a very long time, not since the boy’s accident on Ross’s Antarctic Expedition.

Grabbing his pistol from atop his desk he rushed out of the great cabin with Edward hot on his tail.

As soon as he had opened the great cabin door the mysterious scent had flooded over both him and his lieutenant like a river.

It was so… so strong. Good Lord, what on Earth was it?

Unfortunately it only seemed to grow stronger as the two of them hurried towards the noises.

Nothing could have prepared him for what he saw.

His steward was being restrained by Mr Manson, while Tom Hartnell was on his knees before him, his hands were roaming the expanse of Jopson’s fluttering belly that had been made visible with his shirt having been ripped open, Francis could see beads of sweat dripping down his chest occasionally catching in the wiry strands of dark hair that coated his stomach modestly.

Outraged, Francis lifted his pistol, and it took all he had to fire the gun at the ceiling rather than at several of his crewmen.

Everyone went silent, Magnus dropped Jopson whom immediately crawled over to him in a panic, his breath laboured with pants as he sweated profusely. 

His neck was bleeding from a rather deep bite wound, and the lad looked feverish…

Was he sick?

“Get on your fucking knees now!” he snarled at the two men, who suddenly looked confused, as if they had just woken from a dream.

It was Tom Hartnell who spoke, his voice wavered uneasily as he stared at the pistol in the captain’s hand. “S-Sir? Has the-”

Francis cut him off with a warning shot near the man’s foot and a furious roar, “KNEES!!!”

Both seamen dropped to their knees instantly, and Crozier was so enraged he just wanted to shoot the two men on spot.

He reached down a hand and helped his sobbing, sweating, and trembling steward to his feet, shoving him in Edward’s direction for safety as he continued to stare down the two crewmen.

Jopson trembled violently in Little’s arms, he stared wide eyed at his two assailants with confusion and fright… the thought of what could have just happened… what could have happened on the orlop…

_‘Oh God! Why is this happening?!’_

Thomas buried his face into his friend’s frock coat and simply cried. He didn’t feel well, he was getting assaulted by crewmen, what the hell was going on?

It was now that Crozier saw Sergeant Tozer stumbling into the room, a cut on his forehead still dribbling fresh blood as lust driven eyes searched the room, immediately falling on Jopson but moved to him when he cocked the pistol in warning.

“HAVE YOU MEN LOST YOUR DAMN MINDS!?! I SHOULD HAVE YOU HANGED!”

Jopson let out a small squeak behind him and Edward uttered so very softly for his attention, “S-Sir...”

Glancing over his shoulder he found Edward’s mouth just inches away form Jopson’s neck, his eyes peering over at him helplessly in silent plea. The poor lieutenant was quivering with wavering self-restraint and Jopson squirmed against him slightly.

It was here he realized that they had found the source of that wondrous scent from earlier... and that source was Petty Officer Thomas Jopson.


	2. Chapter 2

“Well… I must say this is extraordinary...” Dr McDonald stated, clearing his throat to attempt to keep the red flush off his own face.

“Do you know what it could be Doctor?”

McDonald shook his head, “No, but whatever this is secreting through his pores, while it indeed does look like sweat, it is not. I would assume Captain, that this substance is a powerful stimuli to the men’s hormones… it’s almost like a pheromone.”

“Is there… anything we can do for him? Will it stop?”

The doctor loosened his cravat slightly, trying to keep himself in check. It was INDEED a very powerful stimuli, he could feel it trying to stir things within him as well.

He shook his head uncertain of the answer to captain’s question, “I would suggest isolation Captain, but as for the duration of this. I cannot say for sure."

____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

The intensity of this condition only worsened as the day continued. It was now three days later and now as he lay in the great cabin, all he wanted was to be buggered senseless.

Captain Crozier had Dr McDonald set up a hammock for him in the great cabin to keep him isolated from the rest of the crew. The door was guarded by either Mr Blanky or Lieutenant Little at all times, and the captain used the ward room or mess for any and all meetings or discussions now.

He was so, so hard he needed release...

All he could think about was Lieutenant Little's strapping figure, or the way Lieutenant Irving's appeared so very fine indeed, in full uniform, how Mr Hickey's beady rat eyes looked somehow erotic and dreamy today... or Tom Hartnell's beautiful blonde hair that he found himself wondering if it smelt of butterscotch, honey, or maybe vanilla.

Mr Blanky's gruff, rough and tumble appearance somehow seemed more strong and weathered with the new addition of a wooden leg... he wanted to bury his face into the side of his neck and inhale the heavy scent of tobacco of which he knew the man would reek. Lieutenant Hodgson with his bird like build, blonde hair and blue eyes... maybe he smelled like honey too? 

Billy Gibson and his curly hair that he wanted to wind tightly between each of his fingers. Manson.. could his cock be as ginormous as the man himself Dr McDonald and his fair reddish blonde hair, handsome for a man his age, Tozer with his wicked grin and strong physically able form...

Commander Fitzjames.. oh how he wanted to touch the man's beautiful black hair that he was positive felt like the finest of silks, Le Vescante and his shimmering silver hair often parted so very handsomely, the man's occasional foul mouth.. he found himself wanting the man to call him such awful, degrading things. Mr Goodsir and his big brown eyes and warm kind smile and an even warmer heart, Mr Collins and his pudgy round face, wild dark curls and quiet self… 

And the captain.... oh he wanted the man to bugger him until he couldn't walk any more.

Lieutenant Little was left to guard the door, he could hear the man's uncomfortable pacing, as well as how it had increased in frequency the closer the time for the captain to return grew.

He imagined the strong, strapping lieutenant naked... tried to imagine himself with Edward’s large, thick, and swollen prick buried bollocks deep inside him, filling his hole full with that beautiful painfully hard cock stuffed up his arse.

Groaning softly he eased himself out of his small clothes to which he'd stripped down to a couple hours ago when he couldn't stand the suffocating warmth any longer.

His neglected cock twitched and Jopson bit his bottom lip as he wrapped shaky fingers around it.

____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Francis let out an annoyed huff as he made his way back onto the deck of his own ship.

He and Lieutenant Irving had to meet with Fitzjames for something 'urgent' that had really not been urgent at all. Now he was pissed. Now he had wasted his time.

As soon as he descended the ladder to below deck he could already smell Jopson's... affliction.

That scent, Christ it was starting to do things to him too.

Since they boy had been relocated to the great cabin, he'd had to excuse himself and toss one off in his berth several times during the night so he wouldn't ravish the poor man.

As ashamed as he was to admit it, there were a couple times he’d bunked with Thomas Blanky. His old friend would gruff an irritated snark upon being awakened, before scooting over to allow him to squeeze in beside him. 

He would be lost without his foul mouthed old friend… either that or he’d be screwing the poor boy in the great cabin into oblivion.

Now though... Good Lord it seemed stronger than ever...

By the end of the first day Jopson had been throwing himself at any officer who came into the room. Moaning and begging like a lewd prostitute… the ones who didn’t just do it for the money. 

So far the only two who had been able to resist not trying to screw the poor steward was Little and Mr Blanky. 

Yes. Even Third Lieutenant John Irving… his god fairing, fire tempered, young lieutenant had tried to mount the poor steward… in fact it was by the end of the second day of Jopson’s… ridiculously overactive sex drive. 

____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Why did the Captain leave him to watch Jopson? This was unbearable, he could smell the man from the passage as he carried the man's supper to the great cabin.

As he knocked on the great cabin door to let his presence be known he heard a noise from inside that made his loins burn and his face heat up.

_'Just do it fast Edward. Set the plate on the table and leave.'_

He slid the cabin door open, keeping his head down as he quickly paced across the room and set the food on the table.

Feeling eyes on him he trembled, that aroma becoming more powerful by the second.

Edward could feel his body starting to react, heat pooling hot in his belly and his prick stirring to life.

_'Just leave Edward.. don't look at him. Just leave.'_

Oh and that was his intention, until he felt aggressive hands on the back of his shoulders, hands that shoved him headfirst into the wall, a breathy growl into his right ear.

The lieutenant was stunned for a moment he did not expect the steward to be so strong.

Despite Mr Jopson's underestimated strength, Edward was still bigger and stronger than him, and it took little effort to break free. He ducked under an arm and shoved the steward away violently as he turned to face him. 

All the air around him smelled heavily of flowering plants and sandal wood to the point it was almost suffocating.

Edward felt a wave of dizziness hit him for a second as he was overwhelmed by the steward’s pheromones 

Jopson was on him again, and Edward felt his face burning with embarrassment when he realized the man's state of undress. He trembled as that pungent aroma wafted up his nostrils.

Good God it was so strong....

He needed to....

Without warning Jopson moved and he felt the man rutting an obvious arousal against his thigh, he was panting and mewling in a way that reminded Edward of one of his father's bitches in heat, and how he would separate them from any of the male dogs.

"Oh... Lieutenant.. please fuck me... I need it..."

"I-I... what!?!" his voice came as a small squeak of a astonishment at the request.

Jopson leaned in capturing his lips in a kiss causing him to inhale sharply.

_ ‘Oh god… I need him… I want him… I.. no! No! Edward stop!!’_

After the kiss had parted the steward looked like he wanted to go in for another and Edward froze not knowing what to do, body frozen in that suffocating air that surrounded him. 

_'No. Stop this!'_

Whole body shuddering, he turned his head to the side away from the younger man’s needy lips, keeping his own pursed tightly shut.

His face was growing hotter by the minute and he could feel the unmistakable burden that now stood with a mind of its own between his thighs.

"Edward... oh fuck me hard... fuck me until we go through the damn floor... I need to feel you inside me…" Jopson panted against his neck, hands starting to mess with the front of his trousers. 

“O-Oh god… Mr Jopson... stop you’re not yourself...”

The door was yanked open and the captain stood with an alarmed look on his face.

Oh thank God.

"S-Sir... I.. get him off.." his request came shrill and panicked and he hated himself for sounding so weak.

____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

As Francis lay in his berth that night, he could hear his steward's wanton moans as the boy tried to toss yet another off in the hammock that had been set up for him.

This was the eighth time tonight!!

That sweet scent radiating off the man only seemed to get stronger by the hour.

Fucking Christ on a damn pike!

"Oh.. f-fuck.... ah... Oh god..."

"Belay that infernal noise and go to bed Mr Jopson!" he shouted irritably.

Everything went quiet for a while... until he heard a thud followed by a small yelp.

It was enough to get him out of bed, and he slid his door open to find Jopson standing there panting heavily.

"Jopson what on Earth are you-"

Francis trailed off when the steward was grasping at his shoulders, moaning desperately, tears in his eyes as he ground an obvious... NAKED!?!... erection against his hip.

The captain turned all the shades of red there were and pulled him away.

"Jopson! What on Earth!?"

"Oh but Sir... I-I need you.. please fuck me...”

It was here that Francis Rawdon Moira Crozier realized, that he was in deep shit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I DID TWO VERSIONS OF THIS STORY!!! Because chapter two I... couldn't make up my mind on which I liked better a willing or non-con element and so the other alternate version will be found on my story list after a bit with the same name only 'Alternate'. It will have the same first chapter but will start a different path starting off the second chapter. 
> 
> Okay so I lied this version of the story will have more than one chapter.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jopson is misbehaving very badly.

Francis took a couple steps back, trying to put some distance between him and his... needy young steward.

He had to be stronger, even if he too was, indeed, tempted to bugger the beautiful man right here on the floor even.

Clearing his throat he fixed Thomas with a stern look. 

"Mr Jopson, if yer not going to keep yourself under control, I will be sleeping on that hammock, and yer going to be findin' yer person on that bunk bound, and at this rate with such obscenities I keep hearin', quite possibly gagged, so I can finally get some sleep." he warned.

Jopson's eyes were heavy lidded with lust and he closed the gap between them again and his hands found his captain's waist, Crozier shuddered with want.

He would keep to his threat, without hesitation, especially if it word keep the young steward safe from both his captain, and the lad himself, since he was playing with fire. 

A fire that Francis was not quite sure the boy really wanted to get burned by.

"O-Oh... but Captain please... I-I want you so bad, Sir..." the boy pleaded.

"Last warning sailor." 

His response was two slender hands cupping his face and a pair of eager, hungry lips on his.

This was going to be a long night.

____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

"Hold still!" the captain snarled as he wrestled with him on the floor.

"S-Sir! Sir please! Just once!" he pleaded desperately, flailing beneath the man's weight where he sat on the back of his knees, grabbing for his arms.

Rough rope was quickly wound tight around a captured wrist, and he tried to battle the other man off one-handed... it wasn't working very well.

It wasn't long until the older man had bound his wrists in front of him and his ankles together, and the poor steward found himsf growing increasingly frustrated.

Why couldn't his captain understand? 

Why couldn't anyone understand?

Why wouldn't they help him achieve sweet release?

His thoughts were interrupted when the ground was lost to him, his Irish captain lifting him into his strong arms with a small grunt of effort.

Captain Crozier was so strong... and handsome... and smart... and... and handsome... 

He needed the man... but he kept refusing him.

Why? Was he not to his captain's liking? 

The mere thought made his eyes burn with tears of frustration and he choked on a sob.

"S-Sir.. please t-touch me!" he panted squirming angrily in the man's grasp as he carried him to his berth.

Crozier let out an exasperated groan, "No, Thomas."

Good Christ, that scent was overwhelming.

Sandalwood. Vanilla. Rose Water. Honey...

Jesus Christ.

Carefully he set the young man down in his bunk. 

"Ooh... C-Captain... please..." his steward groaned hips raising shamelessly with uncontrollable want. 

Holding his breath, Crozier looped another length of rope beneath the upper frame on the bunk, gathering Jopson's already bound hands, he looped it through the study bindings keep the man's wrists flush against the wooden frame, he knew the lad would likely be uncomfortable, but God dammit he was a captain of an entire vessel... two technically, and he needed sleep.

Besides, this was a lot better than that of what he knew his alternative would be.

The last thing he wanted was for his beloved steward, and dear friend, to be hurt by him, were he to take advantage of his vulnerable state.

"Francis... please don't... I-I don't want..."

The use of his first name piqued his interest.

_ 'Jopson might very well be a better seducer than James Ross...'_

He was definitely good, that was for damn sure.

When he rose to his full height again his heart panged guiltily when he saw fresh tears of frustration and mild hurt start to trickle down the young man's face.

"Thomas, lad, I'm doing this for yer own good. For both our sakes."

"W-Why?! Why won't you touch me? A-Am I... unappealing...? I-Is that why Edward wouldn't... w-why you won't...?"

Francis nearly fell to the floor in shock, the lad was one of the most physically appealing men on board both ships. It was no secret.

He was too tired for this.

"No Jopson... that's.. not it at all.. Yer a.. very fine man. Dare I say you'd give Ross a run for that title he's so fond of."

The steward let out an obscene noise at the comment and Francis felt himself go bright red.

"Sir... Sir please fuck me... I'm so hard..."

_'For Christ's sake Jopson!'_

Grumbling, he fished in his side table for a spare handkerchief.

He folded it in half the longer way and placed it flush against Jopson panting lips before securing it tightly behind his head, despite his steward's insistent wiggles of protest.

"You trust me, don't you Jopson?" he asked breathing a sigh.

He got a nod and a muffled groan.

"Then trust me when I say that I be doing this for yer own good."

Francis grabbed the blankets and tucked the young man in as best he could wanting to ensure he wouldn't get cold.

____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Francis let out a grumble as he slid his bed-cabin door closed, entering the great cabin he froze immediately.

Gods the entire room reeked of those beautifully sweet pheromones.

Was he even going to be able to sleep in here? 

He had to. He couldn't just leave the steward in such a state without being there to explain, plus he was sure poor Lieutenant Little was in dire need of a good night's sleep.. if the steward's enticing scent wasn't keeping poor Edward awake that is.

He poured himself a quick glass of whiskey, tossing it back in one gulp before climbing into the hammock, that scent completely engulfing him 

It was going to be a long night.


	4. Chapter 4

He did not sleep. 

No he did not.

Between Jopson’s cries, even muffled by the makeshift gag as they were, the overwhelming smell that permeates the room, and his own worry as to if Jopson was okay in there, he didn’t sleep at all. 

So here he sat, already dressed for the day… or was, he’s long since shed himself of his coat and waist coat as he drank his sixth glass at the great cabin table. 

Loud knocking on the sliding door made his head throb painfully. 

“Blazin’ hell! Stop that fucking knocking!” he growled angrily. 

The door slid open and Little’s head poked into the room, his body shuddering as the sweet scent of Jopson’s affliction hit him with full force. 

He opened his mouth to speak but closed it again when he noticed the bottle of whiskey and the crystal cut glass in his hand. 

“Good morning Lieutenant.” Crozier grumbled quietly. 

“Yes… good morning Captain.”

Clearing his throat, Edward looked around the great cabin already noticing Jopson’s absence. 

Surely their captain didn’t sleep out here?

“Sir, where’s Mr Jopson?” 

Piercing blue eyes, irritated blue eyes, stared at him before shifting their gaze to their owner’s bed cabin door. 

“Bound, and I had hoped, stifled, in my quarters for his own safety that’s where, sailor. Hopefully he settled enough to get the sleep that he distracted myself from.”

Little gaped, shocked by the captain’s handling of the situation. "I-I... but, Sir..."

Crozier glared irritably at his reaction. 

“Congratulations Lieutenant, you just bought yourself command of the ship for the day. Go get Mr Blanky, his orders are to watch Jopson and make sure he stays out of trouble. When you are not needed you are to help make sure things are under control with the two of them.”

Baby sitting? The captain expected them to baby sit?! 

Edward groaned, “Oh please, Sir, not again.. I-I last time he about...” 

Crozier glared at him irritably, “Save it Little, you are twice his size and you are one of the few men I trust not to let temptation overwhelm you.” 

This was ridiculous! 

Biting his own tongue he gave a small salute to indicate he understood and Crozier nodded before rising from his chair, he moved to the hammock where Jopson was supposed to be and gathered the discarded night shirt. 

It was saturated with sweat… and honestly with how much the boy was tossing one off lately.. he wouldn’t be surprised.

The thought made his cheeks burn and his loins stir deep within him. 

There was no way he couldn’t put this back on the young man. 

He himself only had one night shirt, the one he’d been wearing last night, but he might have a spare undershirt he could put on him, if anything to give him some modesty and allow Little to keep his sanity. 

Much too big on the lad, surely, but it’ll have to do.

Sighing he set the soiled night shirt back underneath the hammock and made his way to his bed cabin door. 

“I shall return shortly, Edward. Just stay here.” he advised the man who just gave him a disheartened nod. 

____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

When he made his way into his bed cabin Captain Crozier was relieved, albeit a tad envious and mildly annoyed, to find that Jopson had been able to fall asleep at some point during the night. 

_ ‘Jopson you little shit. I am exhausted. You’ll be the death of me.’ _

Though what surprised him was how the visible skin on his neck, arms, and the top of his chest where he’d squirmed enough that some of the blankets had slipped appeared dry and the scent wasn’t as overpowering as it had seemed to have been compared to when he was awake. 

Maybe those ph.. the things secreting from his skin have to rest every now and then too? He’d have let the doctors know.

He crept over to the drawers containing some of his shirts and started rummaging around to the bottom where he found an undershirt that had a patch matching the fabric’s color on the breast area. He vaguely remembered wearing this shirt way back on Ross’s expedition and quite possibly not wearing it since it was torn. 

Why had he packed this? 

Or he supposed the real question was, why hadn’t Jopson mentioned it.. or more complained about it taking up space?

Sighing he turned back to his berth where he saw Jopson still dozing deeply. 

Jopson was a light sleeper. Why wasn’t he awake yet? 

Good Christ he hadn’t killed the man?!

Now rather alarmed at this thought Francis hurried his pace over to where the lad slept quietly and let out a breathy sigh as he saw his chest rise and fall. 

Was he just exhausted? 

He wasn’t sweating as much as he had been, but his face was very pale and that sweet scent lingered very faintly just beneath the surface, not as fiercely. It was rather alarming, he looked much more sickly like this as opposed to when his body was coated in that almost feverish appearing sweat. 

Frowning he placed a gentle hand on Jopson’s cheek and pulled back almost immediately. 

Bleeding Christ his skin was so cold!

All at once the smell of flora and vanilla slammed back into the room like a cold, rough wave from the sea and Francis had grip the wooden frame of the bunk as to not fall over from the overload it caused his senses. 

Those pale eyes slowly slid open and Jopson let out a small wheezing groan. 

Swallowing thickly Francis forced his shaking hands to move, running his fingers through black mussed hair that he noticed was somewhat oily compared to the silky clean appearance it normally had. 

Boy hadn't been well enough to worry about hygiene, he’d tried to wash it that first night before he’d been trying to get in everyone’s trousers courtesy of this mysterious ailment. It had remained clean for about three hours before he’d sweated so much that it was filthy again. 

It finally occurred to him just how unwell the young man was, and quite possibly how badly this could end if they couldn’t get this under control.

With a heavy sigh he lifted Jopson’s head slightly and tugged at the knot in the fabric he’d used to stifle the obscene sounds from last night behind his head. 

The younger man took a shaky inhale once he’d eased it free and set it aside, oh lord did he look miserable. 

“Thomas?” 

Jopson swallowed, blinking tiredly, his gaze sickly as he parted his lips slightly working his jaw for a moment. 

“I’m sorry, Sir.” he rasped quietly. 

It Crozier a moment to understand that he was apologizing for his behavior last night. 

Still irritated and very tired as a result from said night, Francis had to force himself to offer a sympathetic smile and shook his head softly. 

“The fault is not yours lad, you’re unwell, ye can’t help it. Whatever this is, we’ll find a way to get rid of it.” 

Francis noticed how sweat was starting to drip down Jopson’s neck, arms, and face again and how the sweet smell was getting even stronger.

Clearing his throat he reached up and began to undo his rope work on Jopson’s secured wrists and he noticed how the boy’s body visibly shuddered despite the fact that he was trying to resist the ailment as best he could. While he still could. 

“D-Did you sleep, sir?” Jopson asked quietly, even though Francis had a feeling he already knew the answer.

They were always honest with each other. That wasn’t going change now. 

He sighed deeply, “No. No, I didn’t lad.” 

Already expecting the guilt ridden expression he turned his blue eyes to offer a warm expression, “That’s okay though, Jopson. I will, I promise.” 

“But Terror...”

Shaking his head he gave him a pat on the shoulder as the last knot gave. 

“Lieutenant Little’s got command of Terror for today, when he’s not needed Mr Blanky will keep an eye on you to make sure you’re alright.” 

____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Thomas had just finished buttoning his waistcoat when his nostrils picked up on that ever present scent in the ship.

Was it getting stronger?

He could hear two sets of footfalls making their way down the passage outside and stop. 

_ ‘Fuck me sideways! If that’s what I fucking think it is!’_

A hesitant knock on the door made the hackles raise on the back of his neck and he had to clear his throat before he spoke.

“Christ’s balls! What is it?” 

His bed cabin door slid open to reveal Lieutenant Little with Jopson still sweating all over like a leaky sieve, red face, and trembling beside him. 

“Oh well fuck me.” Mr Blanky grumbled.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the lacking update on this one. It's been a hectic month.


	5. Chapter 5

Thomas Blanky felt a vein throbbing irritably against his temple as he stared at lieutenant Little who stood there with Jopson trembling by his side, the poor… beautiful lad.. Christ he smelled so good.. 

He wasn’t quite as sweaty as he had been the last time he’d seen him, but he was starting to perspire copiously again, it dripped down his forehead, temples, and neck moderately before disappearing behind the collar of his… wait that was Francis’s shirt, that one. He only recognized it from the tear in the breast area that had been patched. 

Aye, the lad was wearing one of their captain’s old undershirts that was much too big for him, the sleeves having to be rolled up slightly and though it was obvious the boy didn’t feel well, the shirt tails were still tucked into his long drawers and trousers. His normally clean hair was shiny with a greasy texture but despite this it was brushed and parted how he usually liked it. 

Oh Jopson, still trying to look at least somewhat presentable he was.

_‘Poor lad.’_

He seemed a little more clear eyed surprisingly, not darkened with lust. In fact, his bright pale green eyes were flitting nervously between the lengths of the dark passageway of the ship and his bed cabin. 

Mr Blanky looked at Terror’s first lieutenant with a stern look that clearly meant _‘Are you mad, why is he out in the open?’_ and Little cleared his throat.

“Mr Blanky, Captain Crozier has specific orders for you today.” 

_ ‘Oh buggering Christ! I swear to fuckin’ Poseidon I am this close to telling that Irish bastard to go toast his fuckin’ eyebrows!’_ the man thought bitterly.

He already had a feeling he knew what these orders were, and that Jopson was brought here for a reason.

Thomas groaned rubbing his hands against his temples before motioning for the two men to enter the small bed cabin, which barely had enough room for the three of them to be in at the same time, he decided to have this conversation out in the hall.

Clearing his throat he turned his attention to the captain’s steward who cast his eyes to the floor with a deep red blush upon his cheeks when their eyes briefly. 

A pungent burst of lavender filled the air and Mr Blanky had to shake his head to will back impure thoughts as he pulled the folding table down and brought a chair next to it. 

Motioning to the chair he glanced at the young man who looked absolutely miserable.

“Jopson, if you will lad, stay here. Edward and I will be just outside but a moment.” 

Swallowing thickly Jopson made his way over to the chair and sat, pulling the blanket tighter around himself and shifting his legs in a certain… attempting to be decent gesture.

_ ‘Oh this is just what I fucking needed! The lad’s only been here a matter of seconds, and God is pulling a bleedin’ fast one on him already. It is too damn fucking early for this shit! Who in the good name of doxy fucking, gets bloody aroused ‘board a ship this damn cold at this time of day?’_

With that the two officer’s stepped out into the dimly lit passageway, Mr Blanky sliding the door closed before turning to Edward with a glare.

“For the love of all things fuckin’ holy, Little, this is not what it bleedin’ looks like!”

Edward scrubbed a hand over his face, then smoothed it through his hair and scratching the back of his neck awkwardly. 

“I wish I could tell you that it isn’t, Mr Blanky.” 

“Why in the bloody hell are we baby sitting in my bed cabin? Bleedin’ Christ send him to yours!” 

The lieutenant’s eyes widened in horror at the mere suggestion, going very pale all the sudden before he took a deep breath.

“Because the Captain, is exhausted for he was up all night. I am temporarily in command of Terror for today.”

He narrowed his eyes at the younger man, not liking where this was going at all.

“Are ya tellin’ me that Francis wants me to bleedin’ watch him all day?!” 

“No, my orders are; when not needed on deck, I’m supposed to check on you both. If you are needed for something I shall relieve you until your return.” 

Mr Blanky let out an irritated huff and looked back towards the closed door of his bed cabin when a small groan came from behind it.

Another wave of lavender and this time some honey.

“The captain had Mr Jopson in his bed cabin tied to his bunk...” 

Everything else that could possibly of been running through Terror’s ice master’s head disappeared with but the snap of invisible fingers.

He turned to Edward, slack-jawed, eyes wide, and face paling rapidly. 

Lieutenant Little quickly realized his mistake in wording. 

“I – no! No, Mr Blanky it was nothing like that!”

With Thomas Blanky still gaping in shock, Edward continued.

“I.. that is to say, that the Captain slept in the great cabin and had Jopson sleep in his berth! Apparently, Jopson had made… inappropriate advancements very late at night… and Captain Crozier didn’t want to wake anyone so he tied him to his bunk and left him alone for...” Edward trailed off again, swallowing thickly as he recalled the captain admitting that it had been for Jopson’s own safety, even from his Captain, because the illness was having an effect on him.

Mr Blanky seemed to get it though because he huffed a breathe and finished for him, “For his own safety?” 

Hesitantly Edward nodded, looking very troubled indeed. The younger man let out a tired sigh but his eyes suddenly widened a fraction and he covered his nose with a gloved hand when that magnificent scent, still hovering about the corridor, flooded his nostrils.

Lieutenant Little’s face had reddened slightly and he groaned against the heather gray finger-less mitten, shifting his weight uncomfortably. 

Glancing down slightly, the ice master noticed the man’s prick had stirred to a slightly elevated state judging by the slight bulge of his trousers. 

He averted his gaze immediately meeting Little’s mortified expression with a sigh of sympathy and non-judgment, nor amusement.

“Good Christ, Edward, e’s gettin’ to you too.”

The poor man looked like he was on the verge of having a breakdown, such a helpless aspect of defeat reflected from those dark eyes.

Little just started gushing out everything before he could help it, keeping his voice low as to not be heard by both a third party and any onlookers who might stumble upon them.

Thankfully the lower deck was mostly empty at the moment.

“The great cabin is right next to mine. He’s been sleeping in there for but two days now and… oh god, this illness seems to be getting worse. That smell it just.. it draws me to him.. and it... at first I could just.. toss one off, but now I-I… all I think about is…arrgh…!” Little trailed off running his hands through his hair in obvious distress. 

Mr Blanky placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder and gave it a firm pat.

“Aye, I know. Hopefully them bloody doctors make themselves useful and find something to remedy this ‘Curse of Jopson’ soon.” 

Edward just nodded idly and turned his eyes down the hall when the bed cabin door next to Mr Blanky’s slowly slid open and out walked a very… distraught and dishevelled Lieutenant Irving. 

Poor third lieutenant John Irving. He was in full uniform but had forgotten his hat. Both men were able to catch a good look at the man’s hair slightly damp with sweat, and mussed from the part it had been combed in… untidy hair caused by sex or private activity. 

His face not only red and sweaty, but also bearing an embarrassed look of shame. The man’s breath coming in small ragged pants, hands trembling, and his cravat askew. The darkness in his green eyes was slowly starting to dissipate as he came down from his euphoric high.  
Mr Blanky actually laughed heartily at the sight of him and the comment he made next left poor John Irving with an absolutely scandalized expression of horror upon his face.

“Atta boy John! Don’t let that blasted faith of yours stop ya from bein’ a man lad! Good on ya lad, turnin’ into a blazin’ Christian are ya? First spend of your life there lieutenant? Feel better? Don’t got a stick up yer fuckin’ arse anymore?”

“I-I… I...” the man stuttered before pursing his lips and turning around.

Edward though he had wanted to laugh, managed to hold it back and instead called out to the younger lieutenant. 

“John.” 

Irving turned around, blushing to the point of being a deep maroon turning purple.

Little motioned to his head and Irving frowned, reaching up to meet damp hair, he blushed further but uttered very softly, “Thank you Edward.” 

When the man finally disappeared from their sight Mr Blanky snickered softly and patted Little on the shoulder once more. 

“Best get to it lad, but I would go take care of that first.” the man put a lot of emphasis on the word that with an inclination to his head. 

____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

“This is bloody rare isn’t it lad?” Mr Blanky asked as he re-entered his bed cabin.

Jopson startled slightly before glancing up and lowering the book he had found and was busy reading. 

Or trying to read.. and failing.. he couldn’t stop inhaling the book’s pages that smelled heavily of tobacco. 

Clearly the man had been smoking in the room when he knew he shouldn’t be. 

The scent was so appealing and he visibly trembled trying to will himself from getting an erection, but it was hard as his mind was screaming for him to get up and take kiss that foul worded mouth. 

“Sir?” he questioned quietly, not understanding.

“The two of us, spending time together alone, hell I don’t think we have since the Ross expedition.”

Thomas noticed how the scent the steward was giving off increased in strength at his spoken words, to the point of intoxicating. 

Something new though, he could smell cherry blossoms now. 

His face was getting hot and he cleared his throat, swallowing thickly as the boy looked at him with those beautiful pale eyes full of a desperately restrained want, restraint that was breaking.

_ ‘For fuck’s sake, I need to find something to keep him occupied...’_ Mr Blanky thought quickly.

He pondered for a few moments before finally an idea came to him and a sly smile formed on his face. 

That would work. 

Without further delay he moved to his sea chest and pulled out two bottles of alcohol he’d stashed away. 

Strong stuff. 

Jopson flinched at the sight of them and an uncertainty sparked in his eyes, “Mr Blanky, sir… I don’t think that...” 

When his older friend lifted an eyebrow at him and snorted in mild amusement he got an uneasy feeling that this was an argument he was not going to win. 

On the other hand he could see what the man was trying to do. 

Distraction.

“Sorry, son, but personally I’d rather have you calling it eight bells instead of throwing yourself at me. I’m not as young as I used to be lad.” 

Jopson actually gave a genuine smile, weak as it was, and nodded. 

At the nod Mr Blanky uncorked the bottle and handed it over to the steward. 

“T-The whole thing…?” Jopson sputtered in surprise, voice coming unintentionally squeaky.

The ice master grinned, nodding enthusiastically. 

“Aye, but I wouldn’t down it fast if I were you, lad. Bleeding strong fuckin’ stuff, that.” 

Though he was still unsure if this would work or not, Jopson tilted the bottle and indulged himself in a modest swig.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Who here thinks giving a sick man, who is also suffering from his sex drive being on overdrive, alcohol was a good idea, raise your hand.


	6. Chapter 6

“And remember that time on the Ross expedition when James crashed the damn boats and nearly killed us all?” Blanky chortled as he took a swig from the bottle.

“M-Mr Blanky- hic! - you helped to pull me from some debris… y’silly -- sod.. Rem--hic!-- ember?”

The man pondered for a second before laughing heartily and slapping his knee as he leaned back.

“Aye! That’s right, yar scrawny little self got propelled into a cabinet on impact! Me and our notorious Irish Temper of a captain found ye underneath the damn thing holding a damn teacup like ya’were ‘bout ready to serve noon tea!” the man roared with laughter.

He was visibly trembling, god the older man’s scent was so enticing. Tobacco. Whiskey. Ash. Musk. Wet Clothes. Oak… from his wooden leg. 

Oh how he wanted to see how the man could use that wooden limb in bed, was he able to bend balance on his knees he wondered.

Would it knock him off balance? 

Could the Ice Master still even perform with it? Or would he have to climb on top?

Mr Blanky’s chestnut toned hair was slightly damp with sweat at the top but it was still fluffy and soft looking, and deep grey eyes were studying him intently, slightly darker than normal. 

Dark with lust. 

It was clear he was struggling just about as much as he was. 

He could feel the warmth deep in his belly churning, coiling and burning aflame like a burning brazier. Flushing a deeper red in morbid embarrassment the younger man crossed his legs, trying to hide his raising arousal, he hiccuped before he took another swig from the bottle. 

The ice master took a deep indulgence from his bottle as well, setting it down on the table and pinching the bridge of his nose, tipping his head up as he felt a migraine coming on.

Good Lord, it was using everything in him to not jump the smaller man.

Cinnamon, lilies, rose water, musk, whiskey, and honey. It was hitting him so damn hard. 

He needed a smoke. Now. Fuck being outside. 

Standing he walked over to the small shelf of drawers, fetching his pipe and tobacco pouch from within the top drawer to the right.

Not even bothering to sit back down he pulled the small box of matches from the breast pocket on his coat and lit the already packed bowl (As a creature of habit he always refilled it right after he was done smoking one) As he’d struck the match Blanky couldn’t help but notice how violently his own hands were shaking as he tried to light it.

That was when he heard the thud of a bottle being set down upon a wooden surface and the stumbling trods of booted feet crossing the floor, the foot falls gave the clear telltale sign that he was intoxicated. 

Jesus Christ that scent was becoming more and more powerful with every step the younger man took. 

Knowing the young steward was advancing, he quickly took a deep drag off his pipe, trying to settle his nerves, trying to desperately to gain back some of his willpower. 

It was just as he inhaled that the ice master felt hands settle gently upon his shoulders and a prominent nose parting the back of his hair to find his neck, hot breath on his nape. 

Smoke billowed out from his lips in a husky gruff of a cough, and he immediately took another inhale of his pipe, letting the nicotine fill his lungs with a deep breath. 

Those hands moved down his shoulders until they rested upon his hips and that was exactly where he caved. 

Snuffing out his pipe, he pivoted on his heel, grabbing the lad around the waist with strong arms. He crashed his lips against Jopson’s having to tilt his head up slightly, the lad may be smaller than he, but he was slightly taller. 

Though he remembered when he wasn’t. 

Jopson groaned softly against aggressive lips, as the ice master hastily undid the buttons on his shirt, or Crozier’s shirt, pulling it open and sliding it off his shoulders. 

Teeth nibbled at his bottom lip demanding entry and he was all too inclined to oblige, parting his mouth further to allow a thick tongue that tasted heavily of whiskey and tobacco invade his oral cavern. 

It was easy for him to make quick work of the officer’s uniform helping him tug his arms from his sleeves and unbuttoning the black waistcoat and grey undershirt.

Mr Blanky was fit for his age, strong muscled arms and a hirsute chest coated with dark brown hair. 

Lips moved away from his own, trailing down to lay open mouthed kisses against his stubbled jaw, occasionally a sharp bite, scrape of teeth, and suckling from that dominate mouth that made the heat in his loins grow even hotter. 

“O-Oh... “ he groaned softly grinding himself against a firm thigh that forced itself between his legs. 

“Bleedin’ Christ… ya sure are a fucking horny thing aren’t ya?” the older man gruffed. 

“F-Fuck… yes… oh please…” he whined lowering his hands to pull at the waistband of his trousers.

Mr Blanky growled firm hands grabbed his waist and bodily hauled him up off the ground slightly to pace the couple steps towards his bunk throwing him roughly down upon it. 

“Ya want it that damn bad, lad, then I’ll give it to ya alright.” he gruffed climbing onto the bunk with him and unfastening the front panel of his trousers, yanking them down while the younger man hastily removed his own. 

The lad’s skin was slick with sweat and whatever the fuck was secreting from his pores, and god did it ever fucking smell good! It was addicting!

With one rough movement he flipped the steward over and the younger man immediately raised his arse like a damn wanton whore and god damn the whole thing! He needed to take this beauty right fucking now!

“Oh God... fuck me… fuck me please! Touch me… oh…. please…” the boy pleaded desperately. 

“Fucking hell, I’m gonna fuck ya alright lad. Til yar won’t be able to fucking walk in a straight line!” he growled, leaning forward and biting roughly at the back of a shoulder blade as he lined himself up.

“Ahh! O-Oh fuck! Y-Yes… sir, I want you so bad!”

____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

It had been about three hours since he’d gone on deck and left Mr Blanky and Mr Jopson alone in the former’s bed cabin. 

With a break from being needed captaining the ship, he’d decided to check on the two as he’d promised Crozier he would.

As soon as he stepped below deck he noticed the overwhelming scent of spices and sandalwood that flooded his nostrils like a damn storm. 

Good Lord!

Clamping a hand over his nose to try to filter out some of the tempting stimulation to his nostrils he moved forward down the corridor toward Mr Blanky’s bed cabin. 

He knocked and got a gruff response of ‘who is it’ followed by a yelp of what sounded like pain. 

Alarmed he yanked open the sliding door.

Immediately he wished he hadn’t.

There on the bunk was the ice master draped over the back of the young steward, both men completely nude. 

His jaw fell open in shock and brown eyes were so wide he felt like they’d pop out of his skull.

Mr Blanky’s hips attached to hairy thighs slotted behind Jopson with the engorged erection buried deep inside the dark haired steward, snapping forward vigorously as he buggered the smaller man into a mess of wiggles, moans, and heavy panting.

Jopson’s eyes were heavy lidded with euphoric bliss, his panting mouth had drool dripping from the corner as he babbled pleas for more. All the while the ice master was growling between spewing profanities and his hands were gripping the steward’s hips so tight that fingernails left little trickles of blood that beaded down pale hips. 

Absolutely mortified and face going absolutely red with embarrassment, he quickly backed out of the room, sliding the door shut and pressing his back tight against it as he tried to register exactly what he just saw.

**Author's Note:**

> I HAVE NEVER WRITTEN SEX POLLEN THEMES!! LIKE EVER! I HAVE NEVER EVEN HEARD OF IT!! 
> 
> Go easy on me ;_; I am trying.
> 
> This will have 2 or at least a handful of chapters. I'm trying to keep things short and simple because I started a new job that I absolutely already loath yesterday, and should my motivation be wavered by work related stress I shall just stick to shorts for a while. 
> 
> AKA I'm going to haunt the fuck out of the kinkmeme
> 
> ALTERNATE VERSION: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20307097


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